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His hand stilled in my hair and his eyes sobered. “And to answer your questions… How did you get played? That sounds like you’re taking on blame that’s not yours to take. His actions don’t say anything about you. You were willing to love. He was the asshole who took advantage of that, and that’s not your fault at all. And two, you trust someone after that by communicating any and all concerns out loud so we can tackle them together. And we’ll go slow,” he said confidently. “Just let me know when you’re feeling insecure about us and need reassurance.”
I swallowed hard.
“You like hanging out with me, don’t you?”
“Yes.” I traced a finger over his scruff, over the tiny scar extended out of his lip, happy that I could finally touch him. He turned and kissed my hand.
“Then it’s settled,” he said.
“What is?”
“We’re gonna hang out a lot more.”
I bit my lip, still feeling unsure about all of this…
“Let me be the better man, please,” he whispered, pushing a kiss into my hair. “I know I can be who you need. Please give me a shot.”
His voice sounded different, and his statement felt loaded. It was almost like he was begging me for permission to be his full self with me.
“Plus, one good thing about me is that I can’t lie. I have an absolute shit poker face. Growing up, I’d try to lie to Casey, he’d pull me into a headlock, take one look at my face, and he’d know.” He laughed.
“A headlock? Jeez, sounds like a violent childhood.”
“Nah, just a hockey one. Headlocks and locker boxing solved all our problems. Just throw your helmet and gloves on and duke it out.” He sighed. “Simpler times.”
“Wow.” I snorted. “Maybe us figure skaters should’ve done that instead of just being passive aggressive and catty with each other all the time. We only ever got along during ice show season because we were working together to put on a show instead of competing.”
“That’s when you guys had that big black curtain covering part of the ice and all the lights and the sparkly costumes, right?” he asked.
“Yeah.” The curtain covered the part of the ice where we’d warm-up before the show. “I loved skating in the spotlight.” I smiled thinking about it. “That was my favorite.”
He sucked in his top lip. “Noted.”
“Noted?” I laughed. “What’s that mean?”
He just shrugged. I swatted him on the shoulder, wanting more than that.
“Well, I’m glad we had this little talk,” he said. “Look at us communicating.”
“You’re changing the subject,” I pointed out.
“But to one you’ll like, babe.” He shot me a wink. “Now, when we’re both sober-”
“Or drunk,” I interjected.
“We can take this further,” he finished. “I think sober because I want to as soon as we wake up.”
“Oh my God,” I grumbled and flopped on my back. “Great, now I won’t be able to sleep.”
His body shook with laughter next to mine. “I take it you like that idea.”
I turned to look at him. “Yeah, I think so, but no more hickies.” I wagged a finger at him. “Everyone could see this one,” I complained.
“Good,” he said with a wolfish grin, to which I swatted him again. He pulled me on top of him then, and laying against his bare chest felt more comfortable than my extensive mattress set up that he loved so much.
“Tyler.” I raised my head.
“Hmmm?”
